Slowly he turned to the girl and met her eyes.
She was trembling in her eagerness for him to understand.
"That is YOU," he said, tapping the central figure in the sketch, and nodding at her.

"You--with your hair down, and fighting a bunch of men who look as though they were about to beat your brains out with clubs! Now--what in God's name does it mean?
And here's a ship up in the corner.

That evidently came first.

You landed from that ship, didn't you?
From the ship--the ship--the ship--" "Skunnert!" she cried softly, touching the ship with her finger.
"Skunnert--Sibirien!" "Schooner-Siberia," translated Philip.

"It sounds mightily like that, Celie.